


only yours

by WhimsicalEthnographies



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Demisexual Sherlock, M/M, Remix, Tea, Wits on Tap 2015, john makes the best tea, sherlock POV, sherlock thinks so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3891289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalEthnographies/pseuds/WhimsicalEthnographies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A remix of Black Gold, Texas Tea by Iwantthatcoat.</p><p>Free verse, because it's been years (like, a freaking decade) since I touched poetry in any form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iwantthatcoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwantthatcoat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Black Gold, Texas Tea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436428) by [Iwantthatcoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwantthatcoat/pseuds/Iwantthatcoat). 



> This was inspired by [Black Gold, Texas Tea](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2436428), by [Iwantthatcoat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwantthatcoat/pseuds/Iwantthatcoat), which is an absolute delight and totally inspired a new headcanon: Sherlock hates most tea, except John's.
> 
> I'm so rusty with poetry, and [Wits on Tap 2015](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Wits_on_Tap_2015/) was the perfect thing to get me thinking about it again. Bit harder than remembering how to ride a bicycle, so I stuck with free verse.

I never liked it.

 

Dark, overpowering, too sweet,

or not sweet enough.

So why bother?

 

I never wanted to like it.

 

You made it the eleventh day,

Dark, overpowering, too sweet,

But I took it.

 

I still didn’t want to like it.

 

You made it every day,

Dark, overpowering, too sweet,

And I took it.

 

I learned to like it.

 

By the three-hundredth day,

It was lighter, just perceptible,

Just perfectly sweet.

 

I started to crave it.

 

And I left.

 

Every where else I went:

Dark, overpowering, too sweet

I had nothing.

 

I missed it.

 

I returned to Baker Street,

You weren’t there.

And I still had nothing.

 

I told myself I never liked it anyway.

 

You came home one day,

Just for dinner.

For those hours, I had everything.

 

I needed it.

 

You came home for good one day,

And we went on an adventure,

And I spilled my secret.

 

“Just my tea?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Eventually we went home.

Baker Street, cases, and skulls.

You made it every day.

 

For me.

 

And it was all I ever needed.


End file.
